


to die for the queen

by questionably_fortunate_bamboo



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Angst, F/M, Random & Short, Sad Ending, honestly idk
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-05
Updated: 2017-11-05
Packaged: 2019-01-29 22:10:18
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 903
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12640206
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/questionably_fortunate_bamboo/pseuds/questionably_fortunate_bamboo
Summary: dulce et decorum est pro regina mori( it is sweet and honorable to die for the queen )





	to die for the queen

**Author's Note:**

> hey okay so i'm stressed as hell and last week was insane because it was the end of the marking period and i haven't been able to write a ton bc my schedule is school, sobbing, sleep, but somehow i wrote this and honestly i just need 3000 hours of sleep because i'm dying. also, i don't know latin but it's the thought that counts so let's just move on from that. enjoy whatever the fuck this ended up being!!!!

_ In the arms of the woman I love,  _ he had once said, when asked how he wanted to die. But that had been years ago. Back then, he didn’t care about his life. It wasn’t as if he would eagerly throw away his life at the earliest opportunity, but it also wasn’t as if he cared what would happen to him. He didn’t care who it would hurt. 

He hurts now. His whole body is raging with pain and completely numb at the same time. The freezing wind drives into the open wounds in his chest. He’s covered in blood- it seeps into the snow, staining it a brown-crimson color, and it drips from the corner of his mouth. It has a sad taste of finality.

His vision fades in and out, and he can see the maids, maesters, and silent sisters moving among the fallen soldiers. Mothers, fathers, sons, daughters, wives, husbands, all searching for someone they love that has fallen in the Long Night. The screams of the wounded carry on the stiff breeze like a gruesome song.

Everything goes blurry. His eyelids flutter closed.  _ This is it,  _ he thinks,  _ he’s going to die alone, cold, and numb. Just another soldier fighting someone else’s war. _

There’s a thud at his left side, and then a jab at his throat. Someone’s fingers, maybe, measuring out his pulse. He groans.  _ Leave him to die, that’s all he wants, just let him go- _

“Jaime? Jaime, I know you’re alive, open your eyes. Don’t be so damned stubborn, just look at me, please.”

_ Jaime, his name is Jaime, and she is Sansa Stark.  _ Good. He’s glad it’s her. He wanted to see her face, one more time, one  _ last  _ time. It’s the hardest thing he’s ever done, but he manages to open his green eyes and focus them on Sansa’s blue ones.

“Stay still,” she says, tearing a strip of grey cloth off of her cloak to clean off some of the blood. Her brow is furrowed in concentration. There are dark circles under her eyes. Strands of her hair are loose, framing her pale face.

“Don’t.” He wraps his good hand around her arm. “Don’t, Sansa.”

“Shush, don’t talk. You’re going to be alright. Lie still. I’m going to stitch you up, and you’re going to be just fine.”

“Leave it,” he says, shaking his head. “I don’t want to die like this.”

“You’re not going to die,” she insists. “You are  _ not  _ going to leave me, Jaime Lannister. I forbid it.”

_ Oathbreaker.  _ He’s going to die as an oathbreaker. He’s sworn so many meaningless vows in his life, but the only two ever meant anything to him- to return the Stark girls safely north, and to protect and serve Sansa Stark for the rest of his life. 

The pure shame of it hits him like an arrow to the stomach. His eyelids flutter, he feels so weightless and frozen-

“Jaime? No, no, no, look at me. Breathe. Keep breathing. Tell me what to do, I don’t know what to do, you’re scaring me.”

Sansa’s thumb brushes against his cheek as she runs a hand through his hair. Wherever she touches him, the painful numbness melts away, replaced by a soft warmth. 

“Stay with me, Sansa Stark,” he says. 

“I’m here. I’m right here with you.”

Jaime coughs and tastes the familiar rusty tang of blood fills his mouth.  _ Not long, then.  _ He tries to clear his throat but ends up making a strangled choking noise. The world comes in and out of focus. 

Sansa takes his real hand and presses the fingers to her lips, as if to breathe life into his bloodied skin.

“I don’t want you to die,” she whispers. “I couldn’t bear it.”

“You could. You’re strong. I’ve seen it.”

He remembers that first day at Winterfell. How he sank to his knees and pleaded (almost  _ begged)  _ for forgiveness. How the steely countenance she greeted him with had almost frightened him. He remembers the first time he made her smile with some muttered complaint about how it was so cold he’d likely lose both his real hand and the gold one to the frost. He remembers the long nights when he’d guarded her door, listening to her strangled sobs. 

He remembers holding her as she shook. He remembers the way he ran his fingers through her hair, kissing the top of her head and murmuring sweet, gentle words meant only for her. He remembers how the ice between them shattered, and how they learned to find each other’s hands when reality grew too harsh to endure. All that trust that had taken so long to build would die with him.

“Jaime, stop it! Don’t do this to me, you swore you’d keep me safe. Don’t you dare leave me,” Sansa snaps. Her eyes are so tired, as if she wants to cry but can’t find the energy to do it. Little snowflakes rest on her head, forming a white crown on top of auburn waves. 

“You’re so beautiful,” he says, not knowing where the words come from. “You’re so beautiful in the snow.”

She smiles through their shared pain and says something, but he’s already slipping out of consciousness. The last clear image he can perceive is the color of her hair against the pale grey sky. 

Jaime Lannister dies in the arms of his queen. It almost tastes sweet.

 

**Author's Note:**

> i have a multichapter jaimsa piece planned so i'm probably gonna write that over thanksgiving and christmas. stay tuned. but i can't promise anything because these classes are kicking my ass and most of my life these days is just crying and eating.  
> love to all of you guys!


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